


Ammo Goes in Weapons but is Latin for 'I Love You'

by Mallory_Clayborne



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fairgame, Genuinely that's as far as it gets which is surprising for me, I don't know it was just nice to write something not angsty for a minute, Kissing, M/M, Play Fighting, That's the best I can describe it, Vague whiterose if you squint, Volume 7 (RWBY), Weapons, fairgameweek2020, jimmy gets one (1) mention, the mildest suggestion of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallory_Clayborne/pseuds/Mallory_Clayborne
Summary: Day 3 of Fairgame Week 2020 - prompt of 'weapons'.Qrow, after sparring with (and defeating) Ruby in a training fight, coaxes Clover into a match too.But nothing is ever basic with Qrow Branwen, and whoever said Clover couldn't learn to fight with Harbinger?Just a fun little weapon swap.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Ammo Goes in Weapons but is Latin for 'I Love You'

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Let's ignore that technically in my timezone this is posted on the 19th (shush, it's still day three in America). I initially had a nice idea for the 'family' prompt but it proved a little too difficult for me to flesh out properly in the time I had. So instead... I wrote this fun little piece. It's weird, because this is the first Fairgame work of mine to make it out of bullet point notes into a real document, but it's finished much before any of the tens of thousands of words of incomplete Cloqwork or Ironqrow stagnating on my desktop. Oh well.
> 
> Happy Fairgame Week!

Metal shrieked against metal.

Ruby shrieked in resistance.

Qrow smirked.

With no intention of hitting anything, Qrow twisted his hand and fired off a shot from Harbinger. The recoil was enough to throw Harbinger’s scythe blade back somewhat, Qrow moving with it, and suddenly Ruby was forced to fall forward, Crescent Rose contacting nothing but air. Qrow pulled Harbinger sharply around and down in a short arc, and it would have slammed into Ruby hard if she hadn’t exploded in a burst of petals and moved aside from the attack. Qrow was better than her, though, and so he immediately threw his arms over his head to bring Harbinger down behind him, letting the momentum take him off his feet and flipping backwards as his scythe swung brutally towards the ground.

Ruby only had time for her eyes to widen and then gasp as she reformed behind Qrow and suddenly the outside curve of Harbinger smashed into her shoulder and made her legs crumple underneath her. If Qrow had kept going, he would have wrecked Ruby’s Aura and potentially carved straight through her flesh, but two-thirds of the way through his backflip he torqued his hips clockwise and twisted himself off to the side. Since Ruby had already crashed to the ground, Harbinger’s twisting blade went just over her head, and Qrow pulled his scythe comfortably back to balance as he stood up straight, towering over Ruby, who was lying on the floor, red Aura crackling over her body and then disappearing. Crescent Rose lay on the floor half a metre from her left hand.

Qrow retracted Harbinger into a sword and holstered it on his back. He sat cross-legged on the floor next to Ruby, who opened her eyes and looked up at him. She groaned.

“You knew I’d be behind you,” she lamented. Qrow smirked again.

“Bad luck, kiddo. But,” and he tugged his scroll free from his pocket, “you’d got me down to about a third. If I’d been having a bad day, you’d have won.” Qrow looked up at a rhythmic clicking sound, and then Weiss was next to him, and she dropped to her knees at Ruby’s side. She took Ruby’s right hand in both of hers.

“You shouldn’t fight to Aura Break! How many times, stop at ten percent, if you must!” Weiss looked mildly irritated, but mostly concerned. Ruby smiled absently.

“But the stakes are higher this way,” Ruby said, and Weiss very gently mock-slapped her left cheek. Ruby giggled.

Qrow stood, patted Weiss on the top of the head (she gave him a short, pointed glare) and walked around Ruby to Crescent Rose. He leaned down to pick up the scythe when it suddenly moved, skimming out of his fingers and jerking across the simulation room. He looked up in the direction Crescent had zoomed off in, and met eyes with Clover, ten metres away, Kingfisher in one hand with its wire linking it to Crescent Rose in his other. Qrow’s boy scout smiled that _goddamn_ easy smile he had, and Qrow scowled, before walking over to Clover.

“You trying to make me look like an idiot, or something?” Qrow grumbled when he was a couple of metres from Clover. Clover only smiled wider.

“Didn’t know you needed help with that,” Clover replied, unhooking Kingfisher from the scythe before retracting and holstering his own weapon. Experimentally, he took Crescent Rose in both hands and swung it, diagonally from his left shoulder down towards his right calf. Qrow considered Crescent Rose painted in Atlesian colours; Clover wielding a scythe in that patriotic white, red, and blue; the name passing people’s lips when they spoke of Remnant’s most skilled scythe wielder not being Qrow Branwen, as declared by Ozpin, but being Clover Ebi, as ascertained by James; Qrow realised he was staring only a second before it would be weird.

Kingfisher sat reassuringly on Clover’s hip as he awkwardly swung the scythe. He knew his form was wrong; scythes were an uncommon weapon, and Clover had never wielded one before, not at the academy, not in the military. Crescent Rose was heavy, heavier than he’d expected Ruby’s weapon to be, but he supposed it was the complex high-calibre rifle mechanics. He’d lifted Harbinger before (though only as a sword, and only to pass to Qrow) and even that felt heavy, given Qrow’s lithe stature. But Qrow seemed to have no problems firing off shotgun blasts with one hand, fencing in close quarters, turning his hand-to-hand lethal with a tonfa. Clover had a great deal of respect for Qrow’s skills.

“We gonna be setting you up with a scythe, then?” Qrow asked. Clover laughed.

“I think we ought to leave you and Ruby to it. You’ve honed your talent over yea-” Clover stopped his sentence abruptly when Qrow stepped forwards and laid his right hand on Clover’s waist, squeezing lightly before trailing his hand down onto Kingfisher and tugging it free of Clover’s belt. The clicking from before resumed, and it was Weiss walking back over, but this time she had Ruby in tow, whose non-heeled boots merely thudded softly as she approached. Clover moved Crescent Rose so the blade was in the air, and passed it into Ruby’s hands. She thanked him, and retracted Crescent and cradled it in her arms like someone would hold a small child. She then shifted it entirely into the crook of her left arm, and took Weiss’s hand in her now free one.

“I’m all sweaty now, so I’m going to grab a shower. Later, Uncle Qrow, will you lecture me on everything I did wrong?” Qrow laughed at Ruby’s question.

“Sure. When I next catch you, we can watch back the video,” Qrow gestured towards one of the cameras in a corner of the simulation room, “and I’ll tell you all the reasons you suck. Might be tomorrow, depends what I do tonight.” Ruby nodded.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll kick your butt next time, promise.”

“Yeah, you try your best, pipsqueak. Take care of her, huh, Weiss?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“She’s _fine_. No fewer brain cells than normal. Normal, by the way, is one.” Ruby whined indignantly, and Weiss tugged on their joined hands. Ruby began to protest the judgement on her quantity of brain cells as her and Weiss headed for the door, Weiss waving briefly at Clover. The two men were left alone in the simulation room, Qrow still holding Kingfisher, with Harbinger secured on his back.

“So,” Clover started, “what are you planning on doing now? Taking over the base, starting by overpowering me with two weapons?”

“I’ll give you ‘overpowering’, if it’s what you want,” Qrow replied, and stepped even closer to Clover, so they were almost nose-to-nose. Qrow smirked before closing the last few inches and pressing his lips against Clover’s, sweet at first, turning hungry and possessive as he coaxed Clover into parting his lips and letting Qrow press his tongue into Clover’s mouth. Clover brought up his hands to grasp at Qrow’s lapels, while Qrow’s free hand came to rest on Clover’s waist and then snaked around onto his lower back, drifting dangerously close to Clover’s ass but not quite going far enough to grope him. Clover smiled against the kiss and Qrow felt it, and couldn’t help his own smile. The pair broke apart, a small string of saliva connecting them but breaking almost immediately, and then they moved back in to rest their foreheads against each other. Qrow was ever-so-slightly damp with perspiration after his fight with Ruby.

“I’m getting mixed signals about what _kind_ of overpowering,” Clover murmured. Qrow huffed a laugh. His breath smelled of warmth and mint, a side-effect of the nicotine gum he’d resorted to in his desperate attempts at salvaging himself from drink and smoke. Clover twisted his fingers into Qrow’s clothes a little harder.

“Well,” Qrow said, taking his free hand from Clover’s waist and instead settling it onto Harbinger’s hilt, “why don’t we keep it nice and physical to start?” Qrow quickly tilted his head in again and kissed Clover very briefly, before stepping back and drawing Harbinger. He momentarily let go of the hilt and twisted his hand over, so he had Harbinger’s blade pointing towards the ground but his thumb was now the digit closest to the ceiling. He offered the sword to Clover.

“Your Aura-”

“Will be fine for us to mess around with the wrong weapons. Unless you actively _want_ me dead.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then show me how to use this thing, and I’ll show you how to play with Harbinger. It’s not so different to playing with me,” Qrow said, a sly smile creeping onto his lips at his final words. Clover darted the tip of his tongue out to wet his lips and his cheeks gained the faintest shade of pink. Then he broke into a grin and Qrow had a split-second to brace himself for the comeback-

“So, easy.” Qrow let out a brief, indignant laugh, and brought Kingfisher up in front of him.

“I _will_ tie you up and leave you.”

“Better let me teach you how to do that, then.”

Both Clover and Qrow spent far too much time dragging their fingers over each other’s hands and shoulders and arms and waists as they corrected the other’s hold on their respective weapons. Clover had yelped in shock when he’d first discharged a shot from Harbinger, despite Qrow’s repeated warnings about the recoil, the round flying way off from where Clover had been aiming. Qrow, Aura not engaged, had cried out in shock and moderate pain as he’d caught his bare forearm against the sharp tip of Kingfisher’s hook, and he’d had to hold tissue against the small wound for a couple of minutes until he stopped bleeding. Still, they both felt like they’d learned a lot, and half an hour of messing around later they both felt they could have defended themselves with each other’s weapon if they’d absolutely had to.

So, naturally, now they needed to fight.

Qrow was stood behind Clover, his chest pressed flush against Clover’s back and his chin on Clover’s shoulder, as Clover swiped through options on the control panel on the simulation room. Clover tutted good-naturedly.

“What are you thinking, then?” Qrow asked. “Mountains? Ocean? Outer space?”

“I was thinking some nice, level ground.”

“Pfft. I need at least _some_ purchase to use this damn grappling hook.”

“Then how about a sparse woods? Plenty of space, but enough for you to grab onto with Kingfisher.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Qrow replied, before mouthing lightly at Clover’s neck. Clover tilted his head to the opposite side slightly to give Qrow a little more space while typing arena seeds into the panel. Strange noises filled the room as hard-light dust began to work on the landscape, filling the grey-panelled room with grassland and trees and Qrow could have _sworn_ he saw a squirrel when he finally dragged himself away from Clover to look at the newly-created environment. He was far from being Atlas’s biggest fan, but even he had to admit this was _amazing_ to see.

“Well then,” Clover said, moving to stand next to Qrow, “shall we?”

The two men stood facing each other, ten metres apart, in a clearing in the middle of the small woods. Qrow’s fingers were twitching around Kingfisher. Clover was gripping Harbinger so tight his knuckles were white.

“Uh, so, how do we start this?” Qrow asked.

“One of us shouts ‘fight’, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well. Nice knowing you, Clover. You wanna do the honours?”

“Sure thing. Good luck, Qrow.” Clover paused for a few seconds. He took a deep breath. Then he yelled ‘fight’, and Qrow immediately sprinted to the side to avoid the shot from Harbinger he’d predicted would be coming. He extended Kingfisher as Clover ran forwards, and managed to get Kingfisher up in front of himself in time to block a swing from Harbinger, still a sword in Clover’s grip. The clanging as they traded blows screamed uncertainty, inexperience, but both men were getting into the fight, and Qrow took a split-second too long to make a decision as Clover pressed forwards with the sword and managed to get Qrow to stumble backwards, not used to Kingfisher’s relative lightness.

But Qrow remembered he could ‘throw’ Kingfisher before Clover remembered Harbinger was truly a scythe, and twisted his wrist sharply to flick Kingfisher’s wire out, managing to hook it around Clover’s calf and pulling, hard. Clover almost went down from having a leg swept out beneath him, but he threw Harbinger into his right hand so he could use his left hand to break his fall and turned his whole body over until he could right himself. This gave Qrow time, however, time enough to press in on the offensive, slamming a high side kick into Clover’s chest and throwing Clover several metres across the room. In a small cloud of powdery earth and torn grass, Clover performed a single-handed handspring to push himself neatly back onto his feet. Qrow growled.

Clover smiled, and the gears in Harbinger hummed with energy as they span and then Clover was wielding a scythe, confident and handsome, and Qrow took just a second to admire the way Clover had adapted to this, but then snapped back to the fight and glanced over to the nearest tree, hoping he wouldn’t be unlucky as he threw his arm towards it and tried to wrap Kingfisher’s wire around the biggest branch. Clover raised Harbinger horizontally and fired off a shot that perfectly reached where Qrow was a second before, but his smile dropped as Qrow half-swung, half-jumped over to the tree he was hooked onto and then scampered up the tree until he was stood on the large branch, Kingfisher now mostly retracted in his hand.

“Gonna have to be faster than that, boy scout,” Qrow teased, and Clover’s eyes flashed with something dangerous as he sprinted in, jumping at the perfect moment, and _Brothers no I shouldn’t have taught him to do that_ as Clover fired a shot into the ground, both giving him height and momentum to bring Harbinger round his waist in a vicious arc that caught Qrow in the ribs and threw him out of the tree. Qrow gasped as he tumbled over in mid-air and his right shoulder hit the ground first, his head a split second behind as it thumped against the earth and Qrow gave a short moan as he felt his brain shake inside his skull and tasted grass and soil on his lips.

Qrow barely had time to breath before Clover came in to push his advantage, slamming Harbinger’s handle into Qrow’s thighs and sending him spinning across the floor. Qrow felt the friction try to grate through his Aura but then relaxed into the movement and allowed himself to start rolling, eventually using that torque to help him stand, finally managing to take a proper breath and eye Clover up. Clover was still goddamn smiling. If it wasn’t so handsome, Qrow would be seriously pissed off. To Clover’s surprise, Qrow sprinted directly forwards, headed straight for Clover, and Clover had a lapse in choice as he wasn’t used to his options with Harbinger.

Too late did Clover make the decision to retract Harbinger into a tonfa; the blade began curling around Clover’s forearm as Qrow’s right toes caught him under the chin and sent him flying, a metallic taste in his mouth as his teeth grazed hard over his tongue and drew a little blood, his Aura shielding him from anything more serious. It was Clover’s turn for his mind to spin when his head hit the ground, but he was faster than Qrow had been in getting up and was ready when Qrow closed the distance and they began their proper hand-to-hand fight. They exchanged blows, hook to body block, round kick to knee block, Harbinger’s blade to Kingfisher’s hilt. Qrow’s expression was perhaps more concentrated than Clover had ever seen.

Then, Qrow mistakenly left his left side too open while throwing a badly-timed overhand punch, and Clover took the opportunity to lower his body slightly and slam a right hook into Qrow’s side beneath his ribs, a brutal kidney shot, and Qrow cried out in pain as he crumpled around the blow. Clover went to bring an elbow down onto the side of Qrow’s head, but he’d pretty much forgotten Qrow did indeed have a weapon in his right hand, and Clover felt Kingfisher’s wire wrap in a single loop around his waist before it jerked him off to the side, but he didn’t simply hit the ground and roll – instead his shoulders smacked into a tree trunk and then he collapsed to the ground, still hooked by Kingfisher. Unlucky. It took Qrow a couple of seconds to get up, and he was holding a hand against his side. Clover didn’t categorically know how Qrow’s Aura was doing, but it couldn’t be good.

Clover dragged himself up too and ripped Kingfisher’s hook from around his body, wincing at the sharpness that caught on the edges of his fingers. The two men eyed each other like predators, their solidarity abandoned for the moment, waiting for the other to twitch and give away their next move.

“Feeling tired?” Clover asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

“If I’m pissing blood for the next few days, it’s completely your fault,” Qrow said, voice belying the pain that had crept through his Aura. Clover’s smile waned.

“Sure you don’t want to stop?” Clover asked, hoping Qrow wouldn’t feel insulted. Qrow simply laughed.

“We can stop when I’m dead,” Qrow replied, and threw out Kingfisher’s hook again, this time catching around Clover’s thighs before tugging sharply. Clover moaned when his head slammed against the ground again, but he ripped himself free of the wire and threw his legs up and then behind his head to stand up. Clover was more flexible than he looked.

Qrow wasn’t going to stop until one of their Auras shattered, and Clover knew it, so Clover sprinted forwards and extended Harbinger back into a scythe as he did, bringing the weapon down towards Qrow in a shallow arc. Given the relatively low power behind the swing, Qrow could easily block it with the pole of Kingfisher, but he wasn’t expecting Clover’s sudden grin and the loud bang as Clover fired a shot, which did several things. Firstly, it jerked Clover’s shoulders and arms back. Secondly, it pushed Harbinger back hard with recoil. And this pulled on Kingfisher, ripping it from Qrow’s grasp. Clover pulled his arms in somewhat and fired another shot, the closeness of which made Qrow scramble backwards, further abandoning the loaned weapon he’d been fighting with up ‘til now.

Clover stepped forward, Harbinger fully extended in his grasp, and Qrow, unarmed, felt a thrill of fear course through his veins. Clover’s usual easygoing smile was replaced by a look that was damn near _predatory_. Clover twirled the scythe over a few times in his grasp. Qrow felt how weakly his Aura was protesting.

“So. Remnant’s best scythe wielder. Is the position open, or…?” Clover asked. Qrow absorbed the fear, absorbed the adrenaline, absorbed the thrill, and used them to prop up his reply.

“It could be if someone _good_ with a scythe came along.” Qrow replied, sounding braver than he felt. Clover laughed, a slight darkness to it. Qrow almost seized for a second with the overwhelming feelings of the scene-

This was a fight, Qrow corrected himself. Not a scene.

Wasn’t it?

“Well. I ought to prove I’m good at it, then,” Clover said, and Qrow barely had time to breath before Clover closed the distance between them, Harbinger swinging hard, and Qrow only just managed to twist away before impact. Qrow lashed out a push kick to put a little distance between them, but Clover braced, and it didn’t push him more than a couple of steps backwards.

“And how are you going to prove that?” Qrow asked. Clover narrowed his eyes, and pulled his wrists around to swipe Harbinger across Qrow again, but Qrow was fast enough to throw himself into a back handspring, avoiding the blade by inches. Still holding himself up on his hands, he torqued himself and threw a kick out, impressed twofold that he could actually still do box splits, and that his ankle made actual contact with Clover’s wrist. But Qrow wasn’t expecting Harbinger to then suddenly slam down against his extended leg, and he was thrown into a heap on the ground after his neck crumpled in a very uncomfortable way. He barely had time to throw his hands up to absorb most of the blow before Clover kicked him in the head.

Crimson shimmered over Qrow’s skin and then cracked into a billion pieces and dissipated. He moaned from the brain shake.

Clover pulled Harbinger back into a sword and laid it gently on the ground, before kneeling next to Qrow where he lay. Qrow absently patted around with a hand until he wasn’t touching the ground but instead Clover’s knee, then slid his hand up a little onto Clover’s thigh. Clover lay a hand down on top of Qrow’s.

“Well, I fucked that up, didn’t I?” Qrow asked. Clover laughed a little and shook his head.

“Your Aura was depleted from fighting Ruby. If you’d been on top form, you’d have beaten me.”

“But, we’re often not on ‘top form’ when we’re out in the field, huh?” Clover hesitated a fraction at Qrow’s words.

“I suppose you’re right. But how often will you have to fight Grimm after a battle with another Huntsman?”

“If I went and killed a Grimm now, would that count?”

“Why don’t you try that, hmm?” Qrow laughed this time.

“I’ll stick to killing Grimm during the designated hours. For now… kiss me better?”

“You kicked me in the _chin_. I can taste the blood.”

“You punched me in the _kidney._ I can feel the internal wounds.”

“Touché,” Clover murmured, before leaning down and kissing Qrow, mouths gently opening and tongues sliding together, Harbinger glinting next to them, Kingfisher thrown in the dirt a good few metres away. Qrow pushed a hand at Clover's chest, asking him to move. Clover lifted his head, and Qrow breathed deeply a few times, before pushing himself into a sitting position.

Qrow idled there, sat on the ground, feeling wonderfully exerted and worn-out, what with his Aura gone and shirt threatening to stick to his back with the sweat. Clover wasn't quite as tired, but Qrow had still done quite the number on Clover's Aura; he needed to rest before tomorrow. He was due up at half five, to leave at half six on a mission with the other Ace Ops. Just the thought made Clover yawn shallowly. Qrow laughed huffily.

"Am I so easy to beat you're bored?" Clover looked at Qrow, half-pity, half-exasperation. 

"No. You're so difficult to beat it's exhausted me. Once again, if your Aura had been full-"

"But it wasn't, so we can only go off this. Still, it was hardly a... realistic interpretation of what we're like in the field."

"At least I know I _could_ wield a scythe if I had no other options."

"And at least I know it's still easy to wind you up, even when you're fighting," Qrow said, laughter in his tone, and Clover tutted, before shuffling closer and flipping himself over so he was sitting too. Their shoulders were now directly side-by-side. They both leaned their heads in to rest against each other. Qrow laced his fingers into Clover's.

"Thanks for the fight, Cloves. I had fun."

"I'm glad. Although I'm not sure many people would every call something 'fun' if they got kicked in the head."

"I'm not 'many people', though, am I?" Clover smiled.

"Far from it. You're Qrow Branwen. My carrion."

"My good luck charm," Qrow said.

"Even if I kick you in the head."

"And punch me in the kidney."

"And that." Qrow sighed deeply and mockingly, and then they both laughed.


End file.
